


the whole earth would blaze (with the glory of fathers and sons)

by undeerqueen



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Reunions, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 09:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18808492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undeerqueen/pseuds/undeerqueen
Summary: Title is a James Baldwin quote.Spoilers for Avengers: Endgame!~On the battlefield, in the heat of war, Tony reunites with his kid.





	the whole earth would blaze (with the glory of fathers and sons)

**Author's Note:**

> so how about that bts video rdj posted on his insta? if u havent seen it yet and want to die from the sheer pure irondad content, can highly recommend 10/10. 
> 
> this was a reaction fic I posted on my tumblr in the aftermath and i was just blown away when the incredibly lovely iamsailornerd requested that i post it here too! thank u so much iamsailornerd u are too sweet, here is the fic for u and hopefully others to enjoy!

“…and then I like vanished…What’s all that grey stuff in your hair?” Peter stops himself in his own tracks, blinking up at Tony’s head, face a picture of perfect confusion.

Tony knows he’s staring, can feel himself staring. He’s very aware of the battle raging around them, of Strange’s ominous promise from all those years ago of just one shot at fixing what Thanos did. But he can’t help it. He falls into those wide brown eyes, brimming with life, full of the future. He drinks in the smooth, soft pouches of the kid’s cheeks that he once mourned for never being allowed the chance to harden in adulthood. Even the excited arm movements, the rocking on the balls of his feet…It is both achingly familiar and shockingly new.

How could he have forgotten so much? 

Pepper’s family say all the time that he must be used to dealing with Morgan’s high energy, into-everything-all-the-time state-of-mind because she gets it from him. And they’re not wrong. But he had practise. Because of this kid from Queens, who never does anything by halves, even his own death, when he’d shoved himself into Tony’s arms, dragged him to the floor and faded into ash.

And now Peter is squinting at him, shocked by something as innocuous as a couple of grey hairs. Back from the dead, back from space having stepped through one of Strange’s portals into an immediate warzone, fighting aliens and monsters, five years in the future…

And he’s worried about the state of Tony’s hair.

God, has he missed this kid.

“It’s just grey hair,” he says breathlessly with a useless hand gesture, cheeks aching from smiling, eyes searing with tears.

“Oh,” Peter chirps, without missing a beat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Anyway, Dr Strange–”

The kid goes to carry on but Tony can’t listen to any more. It’s the same need he thinks Peter might have felt when he collapsed into his arms five years ago. The need to hold, to comfort and be comforted, to protect.

Unthinkingly, he draws Peter into his arms, his whole body alight at once. The kid’s voice drops off but his arms tighten around Tony’s back. It’s a subtle shift, but monumental in the way everything around Tony—the whole world—suddenly snaps into place.

He is not Peter’s father. He didn’t cradle him as an infant or raise him from childhood.

And yet. 

With the kid tucked into his steel grip, the blazing rush of love flares just as brightly as the day he held Morgan in his arms for the first time. Time seems to stand still.

Peter, breathing, alive, safe, in his grasp, asks in a soft voice, “What are you doing?”

There aren’t words. His heart thunders.

Once upon a time he might not have done it. Boundaries are important to him, especially the ones Tony has imposed around himself. And yet here is the kid who smashed them all to smithereens, who showed Tony that the Stark legacy didn’t have to be weapons or fear or even the miserable sacrifice of tortured superheroes.

It could be love.

Once upon a time he might not have done it, but he is a father now twice over. He knows what this is. Knows from the electricity crackling in his veins, the exactitude of it. It is the same affection he showers Morgan with now, that Peter taught him, and he knows instinctively that Peter won’t mind.

Knows, because the way Peter called out “Mr Stark!” just a moment ago was with the same tone of voice he now recognises almost exclusively as Morgan calling ‘Dad’.

Tony got him back. His kid. He’s back.

He closes his eyes, love swelling so high it chokes him at the throat. The prodigal son returns, he thinks ruefully, unable to stop smiling.

Once upon a time he might not have done it. But that was then. And this is now.

He bends his neck to press a kiss to Peter’s cheek.

As expected, Peter’s head tilts into the touch. Tony’s eyes have to squeeze shut.

Thank you. Thank you, thank you, he thinks, over and over. He doesn’t know who the words go out to. Strange? God, if there is one? The universe? The Infinity Stones?

It doesn’t matter. He clutches the kid tighter, relishes in the way Peter grips back just as strong.

They will have to let go in just a second. The war is not over, people are falling around them, Thanos’ army is advancing, and Tony has a kid back in play that he now needs to protect. But the burden of that responsibility just makes him straighten at the shoulders.

There is nothing to fear. He has his kid back and now he knows this is the one they win. There will be time for catching up later, later which he knows will happen because Dr Strange said 'one’ and he did this all for the kid and now Peter’s back and Tony utterly refuses, will spit in the face of a universe that thinks he will let the kid go for anything ever again.

Later, Tony thinks, nodding to himself. Later we can start the rest of our lives.

And he lets go.


End file.
